My Battle with Imposter Syndrome

The Paralyzing Fear of Writing a Blog Post:

My Battle with Imposter Syndrome

Someone asked me the other day when my next blog post was coming out. I had to laugh – not because it was funny, but because that familiar knot of anxiety instantly formed in my stomach. Want to know the truth? Sometimes I’m just a big ol’ chicken.

This post has no photos, no cute pics of Tank (sorry) just honest to goodness truth. Right now, I’m sitting here staring at my laptop screen. My fingers are hovering over the keyboard, and my heart’s doing this weird flutter thing it always does when I try to write. You’d think after all this time, it would get easier but it hasn’t.

Every single time I sit down to write, my brain starts its favourite little game of “What If?” What if nobody cares what I have to say? What if I sound stupid? What if people read this and think, “Who does she think she is?” That is the BIG one!!  The questions pile up until they’re practically suffocating me.

Steve keeps telling me I’m being insecure. Nicely, of course. 😉 He’s given me so many pep talks I think he could start a motivational speaking career. “You are a great writer,” he says. I love him for it, but he has to say that…I’m his wife 😂 Trusting yourself is complicated when your inner critic has a big fricken megaphone and zero chill.

I can read other people’s blogs all day long. Their words flow so effortlessly, their insights seem so profound, and here I am, second-guessing whether I should even use an exclamation point. The comparison trap is real,  and let me tell you – it’s exhausting!

Let’s call this what it is – classic imposter syndrome. That nagging feeling that somehow, despite everything I’ve done, I’m still just pretending to be a writer. It’s like I’m waiting for someone to burst through my door and yell, “Aha! We finally caught you! You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

But here’s something I’m slowly learning: maybe it’s okay that I’m scared. Maybe being nervous means I care. When I stop thinking about my blog as some kind of performance art and start seeing it as just… me, sharing my story, it feels different. Not easier, exactly, but different.

I’ve started doing this thing where I write ideas in my journal first – no pressure, no audience, just me and my thoughts. Gawd I love my journal.📔  Sometimes those scattered journal entries turn into blog posts and sometimes they don’t.

The truth is, the fear might never completely go away. But I’m learning to work with it instead of fighting it. It’s like having an annoying roommate – you can’t kick them out, so ya better figure out how to live with ‘em.

So here I sit, still nervous as ever, but somehow managing to type words onto a screen. Maybe there’s someone else out there staring at their own blank page, feeling just as wobbly as I do. And if not? Well, at least I’ve given my inner chicken something to cluck about. 😉

Next time you notice there hasn’t been a post from me in a while, you’ll know why. I’m probably sitting here, being a big ol’ chicken, gathering my courage to hit that publish button again. 🐓